There's A Lot Left Unsaid
by Starr Rose
Summary: Even in the world where the dead walk, the past has a way of coming back and biting you in the ass. Daryl's ex walks back into his life and shakes up a world that he's grown accustomed to.
1. Chapter 1

She stared down at the stick in her hands. A fucking pink plus sign. The people who sold that god damn piss stick should know that a person buying a piss stick for two bucks at a fucking gas station would not be happy about a pink plus sign. It was too damn cheery. Not that she was mad about having a baby in her. It just wasn't a good time. Especially not with the hillbilly outside. He couldn't even say that he loved her and they'd been together for over three years. They'd been together since she was in high school and he was a year out. They'd known each other for ten years but it took Daryl Dixon seven to start calling her "his woman." He wasn't one for the label of "girlfriend" or anything sentimental like that. Georgia hadn't minded for years, but she knew that it wasn't a situation she wanted to bring a baby into. She buried the stick in the trash can and took a deep breath. She had to tell Daryl before she made any decisions. She could do it. There fights hadn't been too awful recently so she knew she could handle it. She just had to make sure that….

There it was. The fucking roar of Merle Dixon's bike. The cause of 98% of her arguments with Daryl. It wasn't that she hated Merle. Not at all. It was just that he caused a lot of problems and he knew no boundaries. From putting his muddy boots up on the coffee table after she'd just cleaned it, to her finding a bag of cocaine hiding in the back of her fridge because the cops trusted Georgia and knew that she kept Daryl straight so they wouldn't search her house. He just didn't understand that there were some things he couldn't do and it was causing stress between her and Daryl. Especially since Merle had gotten out of jail two days before for a recent problem with petty larceny that he'd _luckily_ gotten off of.

She took a deep breath and stood up to pull up her pants and wash her hands. When she walked out into the living room, Merle Dixon was sitting on her couch with his feet propped up on the fifteen dollar coffee table that she'd bought from Ikea. His boots had mud and grime caked onto them and she knew that it would be all over her coffee table before he left. She gritted her teeth and asked, "Is Daryl outside?"

"Yep. Walked past baby brother workin' on his piece of shit truck. Ya would figure he'd trade it in. Jus like I figured he'd trade ya in by now."

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," she hissed as she made her way to the kitchen that connected with the living room of the tiny trailer. She started pulling food out of the fridge so she could start dinner for Daryl. Merle needed to leave before dinner. She wanted to cook Daryl's favorite dinner and let him know over dinner so that the blow would be softened. They could figure everything else out from there. "And please get your feet off my table. I'm tired tonight and I don't really want to fight with you."

"Ya got no fuckin' reason to be tired. Ya work in a bar on weekends and take online classes durin' the week to be a damn nurse. My brother's the one out there workin' his ass off day an night to support yer ass."

Usually, Georgia would have taken the insults, rolled her eyes, and ignored him. But she was stressed and the smell of the food was making her nauseous. The smell of everything was making her nauseous. She snarled, "Shut the fuck up, Merle. You have no room to talk and we both fucking know it. You go to jail for a month or more, come back here, and mooch off Daryl. You eat our food. You dirty up the house I fucking clean and Daryl has to go get you from the bar at two or three in the morning. And if he's not here I have to go pick you up out of some fucking ditch!"

"Ya best watch yer mouth, bitch. Ya ain't nothin' but a piece of ass 'round here. Prolly not even that good."

Georgia's hand tightened around the knife she was using to hack away at the meat in front of her. It was deer meat. She was planning on making chili for dinner. It was Daryl's favorite. He could eat an entire pan by himself.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Merle. I fucking hate you and I don't want to fucking deal with your pathetic, white trash, loud mouth, useless ass right now. Go do something useful and take a long walk off a short pier."

"Ya best watch yer mouth, college bitch." Merle stood up and made his way across the living room, staring down at her. She knew better than to push him. She knew Merle had a wild temper and wouldn't hesitate to hurt somebody else.

"You watch your mouth! Get out of my house!" Her voice was rising and she could hear Daryl moving around outside, coming inside to break up whatever fight his woman and his brother were getting into.

"Ain't yer house, bitch! Now shut yer mouth an cook the fuckin' dinner. Ain't good fer nothin' but cookin' an layin' on yer back wit yer leg's spread!"

She slapped him. She knew better than to hit Merle but it didn't stop her. She couldn't stop. There was so much wrong with the day and she couldn't deal with it. The slap rang out in the room and she could hear Daryl's shout lightly as Merle's roar rang out. Before she could get her hand up to block it, her ears rang with the slap that echoed in the room. He'd fucking hit her hard. Her lip was already bleeding. He'd cracked it straight open. Daryl raced into the trailer, opening the door so fast it slammed against the wall and banged loudly. He raced to her and grabbed her face roughly in his hand. He examined her split lip carefully and swiped his thumb over it slowly.

"What did ya do, Georgia?" he asked quietly. "What did ya do to provoke him?"

"What did **I** do?" she yelled. "What did **I** do, Daryl? Your brother just slapped the shit out of me and you're asking what I did?"

"She hit me first!" Merle snapped from behind Daryl.

"What'd ya hit him fer?"

She stared at him in awe, her mouth hanging open and her muddy brown eyes wide with disbelief. She asked, "Your brother hit me, and you're asking what I did?"

"Well, I know how ya an Merle are wit each other."

She brought her hands up and shoved him hard, knocking him back towards his brother. She shouted, "Fuck you, Daryl Dixon! I didn't do shit that deserved getting hit! I didn't deserve to get hit!"

"Georgia," he reached out his hand to grab her and she shoved him away again.

"Fuck you! Cook your own dinner! I'm leaving! I don't need this! I don't need him or you, Daryl Dixon!"

She stomped past both of the Dixon brothers and stormed into her room. She yanked a duffel bag out of the closet and threw clothes into it. She looked down at the first piss stick on the dresser and the first positive. She snatched it up and threw it into the bag as well. She left her perfume, her makeup, and her hygiene products. She could buy more of them. She stormed through the living room and out the front door. Daryl followed her to her truck and shut the door as she opened it.

"Where the hell are ya goin'? 'm sorry he hit ya. I'll teach ya some self-defense so ya can take care of yaself next time."

"Next time, Daryl? Next time?" Tears filled her eyes.

"Ya know how Merle is."

"Yeah, I do, Daryl, and you know how he is too. What if I were….what if I were pregnant? What then?"

"We're careful. It wouldn' happen. It'd be fine."

"It would be fine that he hit me? It would be okay?"

"It wouldn' be okay but ya could take care of yerself. Ya could defend ya self."

"No, Daryl. No. Why do you keep letting him come around?"

"He's family. He's all I got."

"You're right, Daryl. He is all you got. Because I'm not staying here. This, this is the last straw. I can't do this anymore. We do great when he's gone. We don't fight, we don't argue, we take care of each other. But the second he gets back, you don't give a shit what happens to me. You don't give a shit what he does to me or to this house and I just can't do it anymore. It just can't happen anymore. I can't let it."

"Yer askin' me to pick ya or my brother?"

"No, Daryl. Because it would hurt too much when you chose him, and I can't deal with that. So you don't have to choose. You can keep Merle."

With that, she yanked the truck door open and threw her duffel bag inside. Daryl stared as she climbed in and started the truck up. Once she started backing it up, he realized what was happening. He yelled, "Fine! I don' need ya anyway! Ya were jus a piece of ass. Ya don' matter. Millions out there jus like ya. Don' need ya! Never needed ya! Fuck ya! Ya can fuckin' go to hell, ya stupid bitch!"

When Daryl stormed back into his house, Merle informed him, "She's leavin' ya fer good this time, brother. She ain't comin' back."

"Don't fuckin' care."

"Damn, baby brother. I didn' think ya was a Dixon until now."


	2. Chapter 2

&&Happy Wednesday! I got all A's this semester in some really tough classes so here's a happy Wednesday present! &&

It was hours later when Merle was sitting on the couch, eating the shitty chili Daryl had cooked while Daryl cleaned his bolts in his recliner. He was staring at Merle's boots, which were propped up on Georgia's coffee table. She hated that. Merle pulled his feet down and chuckled, "Ya can't cook fer shit, Darylina. Ya shoulda kept the bitch 'round."

He stood up and walked into the bathroom with his bottle of Jack in his hand. He had only been out of jail for six hours and he was already drunk off his ass. It didn't surprise Daryl. Nothing about Merle surprised Daryl because Merle never changed. He'd been the same person since they were children. In the tiny bathroom of the trailer, Daryl could hear Merle stumbling around, knocking shit over and destroying everything. There would probably be a mess that he'd have to clean up tomorrow. Usually he and Georgia would help Merle off of their couch and out the front door the morning after one of his benders and then they would clean the house when he was gone, bitching about Merle Dixon the whole time. But Daryl knew she wouldn't be there the next morning. She wouldn't be there to help him clean up after his dumbass brother. She wouldn't be there to wake him up by kissing him. She wouldn't be there to laugh at dumb shit with him or to hold the flash light when he was working under a car.

From the bathroom, Daryl heard the clatter of the trash can as it was kicked over. It was followed by Merle cussing and then, complete silence. Daryl froze. Merle was only quiet when he was hunting or passed out. Even passed out, he snored aggressively after about ten minutes.

"Daryl, get yer ass in here, now!" Merle called from the bathroom.

"What the fuck do I need to come in the shitter wit ya fer, ya fuckin' faggot?" he shouted back.

A second later, Merle came barreling out of the bathroom and threw a little white stick at him. Daryl caught it and stared down at it. It was a little piss stick with a little pink plus sign on it. Daryl looked back up at him and demanded, "What the fuck is this fer?"

"What the fuck do ya think it's fer? Look at it, stupid!"

Daryl stared down at it and realization slowly dawned on him. He'd heard her in the bathroom for two days, throwing up in the morning, but he had just gone into the bathroom with her and sat on the floor with her. He'd just rubbed her back and sat with his head leaning against the cupboard under the sink. His mouth hung open and he clenched the stick tighter in his hand. He groaned, "She's fuckin' pregnant."

"Ya she's fuckin' pregnant, ya dumbass."

Daryl looked up and stared at Merle. "Ya hit her an she's pregnant."

He jumped up, strode across the room, and punched Merle in the face. Merle dropped to the ground and grabbed at his broken nose. He called out, "What the fuck, Daryl?"

"She's fuckin' pregnant wit my kid an ya fuckin' hit her an now she's up an left me wit my kid!"

"Ya oughta be happy 'bout it!" Merle yelled. "Now ya don' have to take care of no fuckin' ankle bitin' crib midget!"

"It's my fuckin' kid, ya dumbass!"

He stormed to the front door. Merle asked, "Where ya goin?"

"To fuckin' talk to her. Ya better be gone by the time I get back, Merle, or I'll beat yer ass."

"She ain't gonna come back, Daryl! Woman like that shoulda left yer ass a long time ago an if she ain't back by now, she ain't comin' back!"

Daryl raced out to his truck and jumped in. Merle was right though. She was long gone. He drove to her dad's house in a haze of dust and bad decisions. He beat on the door and her dad yanked it open to stare at him steadily. Daryl Dixon stood in front of him, covered in grease, dirt, and sweat. He panted, "Where's Georgia?"

"Long gone, Daryl," her father answered steadily.

"No, no, no, no," he repeated, shaking his head. "I fucked up. I fucked up an I gotta let her know that. She can' be leavin' me now."

"Your piece of shit brother hit her, Daryl."

"An I hit him, I did. I'll make sure she don' get hit no more. I will. I promise I will. She's gonna have my baby!"

"I know, Daryl. But she's not going to come back. She doubted that you would come looking for her, but she said, if you did, to tell you that she's not coming back this time. She asked me not to tell you where she's going."

Daryl stared. He couldn't believe it. His chest felt tight. He felt like throwing up. They'd been together for three years. She told people he was her boyfriend and that she was his woman but they didn't plan anything else. They were just together. That was fine. That was how things were supposed to be. Everybody knew it. "She can' be gone."

"She is, Daryl. Look, you know I don't have a problem with you. You and Georgia have had your problems in the past and I've always tried to be a neutral party, but this is something I can't stand on. She came in here with her cheek bruising up and her lip bleeding and she told me **you** just took Merle's side without paying any attention to the fact that she was bruised up. If that wasn't bad enough, she told me that she just found out that she's pregnant with your kid and she couldn't even tell you because **your** brother was on the couch while she was trying to cook dinner for you. I support her this time. I'm glad she left, Daryl, because you can't just treat her that way. It's not right and I'm proud of her for not putting up with it."

"Is she keepin' it?"

"What?"

"I jus need to know. She's right to be leavin' me. I always knew she deserved better. I always knew she needed to leave me but I was surprised when she didn' an she's right. But I jus need to know if she's keepin' the baby."

"I don't know, Daryl. I'm sorry I can't tell more, son." Daryl nodded and stepped down off of the porch. Her father called out, "If you need anything, let me know, son. Just because Georgia's gone, doesn't mean you have to stop coming by."


	3. Chapter 3

_Ain't a baby no more, Darylina. She had that thing cut outta her long time ago. Soon as she got away from here she went to one of them clinics. She don' want no Dixon baby. Ain' nobody want a Dixon baby._

"Sophia!" He was beginning to scream himself hoarse. There was nothing out here. No Sophia. No nothing. There was emptiness. Just like there was in him. "Sophia!"

He'd found the farmhouse. She had to have been there! Somebody had been hiding in that cupboard after all. He was so focused on screaming her name that he didn't hear the click of a loaded gun. He didn't realize anybody was there until a cold steel barrel was pressed against his back.

"Look, mister, I don't know you and you don't know me, but if you keep hollering like that, you're going to bring all the walkers down on both of us." Without turning around, Daryl knew that the voice was young. He knew the person holding the gun was small. It was tilted up between his shoulder blades instead of straight between them like a taller person would be holding it. He spun around quickly and grabbed the barrel of the gun, redirecting the shot and snatching the gun away. With his other hand, he grabbed the boy around the neck and held tight, not tight enough to choke him but tight enough to keep him steady. Then he stared down into the crystal blue eyes of a child about Sophia or Carl's age. He was shocked, but it was nothing compared to the shock of suddenly being tackled from the side.

He felt fists rain down on his face as a woman's voice screamed, "DJ, get in the house! Get in the house, DJ, and shoot if he tries to come inside! Do it! Now!"

Daryl turned his head to watch the little boy run back into the farmhouse that he had just exited. He wondered where the child had been hiding. That was the little child shaped hiding hole in the cupboard. That little boy. Not Sophia. Not the child he was looking for. Daryl turned his face to look up at the attacker that had him pinned to the ground with a knife at his throat and he felt bile rise in his throat. He sat up quickly, using all of his strength to throw the woman off of him. He snarled, "What the fuck are ya doin' out here, Georgia?"

She froze and stared up at the man she'd left behind almost nine years ago. She hated the way her heart still beat faster when she stared at him. She hated the way she couldn't take her eyes off of his crystal blue ones. She said simply, "I'm surviving."

"An the kid?"

"My son."

Daryl frowned. His face hardened dangerously and he reached down to grab her up. Before he could say anything, she repeated, "**My** son, Daryl. Mine. Not yours. Not anybody else's. DJ is **my **son."

"Well, it takes more than one of ya to make a baby."

She stared at him solemnly, studying him, studying his facial features and the way his mouth twitched. She said firmly, "His father is long gone. I'm what he has now."

Merle had been right. Georgia had his baby cut out of her. She'd had a baby with someone else. He demanded, "How old is he?"

"Eight."

Daryl grimaced. It had been right after. She left him and so soon after, she had a baby with someone else. She hadn't ever really cared about him, just like Merle said. His brother had been right. Daryl grunted and ordered, "Well get him. Yer comin' back to camp wit me. Yer comin' back wit my group."

"Excuse me, Daryl Dixon. DJ and I are just fine on our own," she snapped. "We've been fine this whole time. We're doing fine."

"If I was someone else, someone meaner, someone like Merle, I'da killed yer boy," Daryl said lowly, looking toward the house. Georgia deflated. He was right. DJ was all she had left, not that she'd had a lot before the world went to shit. She'd never needed anyone else. After DJ was born, the child was her entire existence. When the world went to shit, she hadn't thought about anything. As soon as the announcements for the refuge center in Atlanta came up, she'd grabbed her boy, packed up their things, and left the city. She didn't hold any stock in a refugee camp. She knew it would just bring more people, more infected to the city.

"Is your group safe?" she asked evenly.

"Course it is."

"Is your brother there?" she demanded.

"Nah. Merle's long gone."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No yer not. An he's not dead. He's jus gone. Don' be apologizin' when ya don' really mean it."

She nodded and turned her back on him. She left Daryl in the yard and went into the house to get DJ. Daryl watched her ass as she walked away. Georgia always had an amazing ass. He smirked when he noticed the bumps in her white tank top and her jeans. She was packing some serious weaponry. He could see two knives tucked into the back of her shirt and another two in her boots. He could tell she had a small handgun down in the back of her pants and another one at her side. She was surviving the end of the world just fine. She slipped into the house and called out, "DJ, come here. Come here fast."

Her little boy ran to her and she knelt down so that she could look up into his eyes. She took his hands in hers and said, "I need you to listen extremely well to me, okay? I need you to hear everything I'm about to say. It's all very important."

"I'm listening, Mom."

"We're going to go with that man out there. His name is Daryl. He's a good man and he's going to take us somewhere safe."

"But, you said we don't trust other people," DJ interrupted.

"He's not like other people. I used to know him. He's a good man. But you have to do something for me. Something very important."

"What's that, Mom?"

"You can't tell him that you have the same first name. Okay? Can you do that for me? You can't tell him your whole name. If he asks, just tell him your name is DJ."

"But what about my last name?"

"Tell him it's the same as mine. Tell him your name is DJ Carson."

"How come?"

"Just trust me on this one, baby. You know I wouldn't do anything to get you hurt. You know I'll always protect you."

"I know, Mom."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Okay, go get your stuff. He's not a patient man so we have to hurry. Plus all that shouting probably drew a few walkers."

DJ nodded and ran up the stairs. She followed behind him and slipped into the small bedroom they were holed up in. DJ grabbed his duffel bag and began throwing the things he'd let fall out of it, back into it. Georgia grabbed hers and stuffed everything down so she could zip it up. DJ's was filled with clothes, food, water, and bullets for his .22. Hers was filled with the rest of the clips and hunting knives. She had only a couple outfits. She didn't need anymore. She wanted DJ to have the food and water in case they got separated. She knew how to hunt. He was just a little boy.

When they were packed, DJ followed his mother downstairs and out the front door to where Daryl was waiting by the front door, his eyes scouring the tree line for any movement. Without looking at the little boy that he knew wasn't his, he asked, "Ya'll ready to go?"

"Yes."

Georgia held tightly to DJ's hand and they followed Daryl through the woods. DJ's crystal clear eyes widened in awe as he watched Daryl move in silence. His mother was quiet on her feet, light and graceful. But she had never been as quiet as the dirty redneck in front of him. It was like he was floating above the sticks and leaves. They didn't even crunch or crack under his feet. It was incredible. It was even more incredible that his mother simply followed the man. She'd never trusted anyone, especially not men, even before the end of the world.


	4. Chapter 4

The mother and son followed Daryl onto a farm. Georgia scanned the area, taking inventory of the farm. There was a camper and tents a distance from the house, under some large trees. She could see an old man with a fishing hat up on top of the camper and a young boy sitting off to the side. There were people stalking around, feeding chickens, stoking a fire, and one woman was just sitting, staring off into the distance. Daryl paused and warned, "Be real quiet fer a few minutes. I gotta talk to someone."

"Are we allowed to be here?" Georgia asked.

"Ya are if I say ya are." He turned and grabbed her by the chin so she was forced to look up into his fiery blue eyes. He growled, "Don' be runnin' off, Georgia."

"Fine, Daryl."

"Back in a few."

Georgia dropped her duffel bag and dropped to her knees in front of DJ. She reached into her bag to drag out a bottle of water and one of her cleaner shirts. She poured a little water onto the shirt and started scrubbing at his face. He groaned and sighed, "Mom, Mom, quit it! What are you doing?"

"Just because the world is ending, doesn't mean I want people thinking I'm a bad mother. You haven't had a good bath in a month and a half and I'm not going to have people thinking that I don't take care of you."

"Mom, we haven't had time to bathe. Come on."

"I'm just glad you haven't hit puberty yet," she muttered. "You'd smell like a pig barn and people would really think I'm a bad mother."

"You're a good mom. You're tearing my face off, Mom."

"Be glad it's not spit, DJ."

DJ rolled his eyes and she smiled at him. The moment was interrupted by Daryl's rough voice demanding, "Woman, what are ya doin' to the kid?"

She stood up quickly and spun around to find Daryl and another man staring at her. The other man was thin with dark, graying hair. He smiled at her and she nudged DJ behind her back. He introduced, "I'm Rick. Daryl told me that you and your boy need a place to stay. We have lots of room and supplies. We'll be moving on after we find Sophia. Daryl's been out in the woods every day looking for her since she disappeared. She's been gone for three days now."

Georgia turned to Daryl and asked, "Is she your daughter? How did she get lost?"

"No. Ain't my kid. Don' got no kids."

Daryl missed the way that Georgia's arm moved around her back to pull DJ tighter to her but Rick didn't. He answered, "She was separated from us when a herd moved through. She got lost in the woods. She belongs to Carol, over by the fire."

Georgia nodded. She extended her hand and introduced, "I'm Georgia Carson, and this is my boy, DJ."

"Does DJ stand for anything?"

"He's named after his daddy and my father, his grandpa," she skirted around the question easily.

"And his father?"

"Hasn't been around since before he was born. Do you have any children?"

"My boy is over by the fire with Carol. His name is Carl. He's eleven now. How old is DJ?"

"He's eight so that's not too far off. It will be good for DJ to have somebody to play with."

"Carl as well. He was shot by accident right after Sophia disappeared and he's pretty torn up over it. She was his best friend."

Georgia scooted DJ in front of her and kissed him on top of the head. She said with a fake cheeriness, "Hear that, DJ? There's another kid for you to be around. Why don't you go introduce yourself while I get to meet all the adults? I'll take your duffel bag. Play easy though, baby. He's injured."

"Yes, Mom."

He handed his mom his duffel bag and looked over his shoulder as he walked towards the campsite. She smiled comfortingly at him before she turned to Rick and Daryl. Rick continued, "You can stay in the RV or I'm sure we can find a tent for you."

"No extra tents an the RV is full. They can stay in my tent wit me," Daryl said gruffly. "Got an extra sleepin' bag since Merle's gone. Big tent so it won' hurt 'em to stay wit me an I'm not in there most of the time."

Georgia turned her coffee eyes up to stare into Daryl's piercing blue ones.

"Are you sure?" Rick demanded. He was shocked that Daryl Dixon would let anybody come into his space. Most of the time, the man refused to let anybody near him when he was awake.

"She used to live wit me. Won' hurt her none to do it 'gain."

"I can handle Daryl," Georgia said calmly without looking away from Daryl's eyes. "He and I know each other just fine."

"Well, I'll let you get to it then. After you're moved in, you can meet everybody else. I'm working on planning tomorrow's search so I'll see you at dinner. It was nice to meet you, Georgia. I'm glad Daryl found you."

She nodded and watched him leave. She turned to Daryl and said awkwardly, "Never thought I'd see you with a cop."

"Don' act like ya know me, Georgia. Ya left. Ya left a long time ago an we ain' gonna pretend ya didn'. 'm gonna help ya take care of ya boy but don' talk to me 'bout nothin'."

She swallowed roughly and nodded. Daryl reached down and took DJ's duffel bag from her. He turned and stalked off with her following. He led her to the tent and climbed in. He tossed the bag into the corner and she put hers down gently. He grabbed a sleeping bag and tossed it to her before reaching down to grab his own and toss it over to her side of the tent as well. She asked, "Do you have another one?"

"Jus these two."

"Keep one for yourself. DJ and I can share. He grows like a weed but he's still small enough to share one with his mom."

"No. Boys shouldn' have to share a bed wit no one till it's their first girl. Shared a room wit Merle fer most of my life an it was awful. Can' imagine sharin' a bed wit no one. Ain't gonna make the boy share a sleepin' bag wit his momma."

"It's fine, Daryl. I'm not going to take your sleeping bag away from you."

"Jus take it, Georgia. Don' argue wit me."

"That's all we're good at is arguing, Daryl. Now take your damn sleeping bag back."

"Nu-uh, girly. Ain' gonna happen. An ya ain' gonna fight wit me right after ya got to camp. Yer gonna have the rest of the group thinkin' yer a wild woman. Now take the damn sleepin' bag an walk away. What yer good at."

"You know why I walked away, Daryl! You know why I left. It wasn't an easy decision."

"But cuttin' my baby outta ya was?"

"What?"

"Ya were pregnant when ya left. Me an Merle found the stick. Been eight years an ya don' have my kid wit ya."

"I….I…whatever, Daryl. I'm not going into this with you."

She threw the sleeping bags down and stormed out of the tent and over to the people who were already staring at her.


	5. Chapter 5

_When the beating started on her door, she dropped the plate she was holding and watched it shatter across the blue kitchen tile. She sighed in frustration and stepped over it carefully on her way to the front door. As she yanked it open, she growled, "Better be a damn good reason why you're beating on the door like you're a cop." _

_ She came face to face with the fifteen year old Daryl Dixon and she gasped in shock at the state of his face. He was black and blue. His left eye was swollen shut and his right eye was held shut to block out the blood pouring from his eyebrow. It looked like it had been torn half off and there was mud and dirt mixed into it. She could barely tell the color of his sun worn skin under all of the blood and dirt. Georgia grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. _

_ "Daryl, what is going on? What happened?" _

_ "My dad said I stole money offa him but I didn'. Merle did last week an used it to buy booze an cigarettes. When I couldn' give him back the money, he got real pissed off. Quit kickin' me when my eyebrow split open though so that was good." _

_ She slipped her tiny hand into his and led him into the kitchen. He protested, "Wait, wait, wait, Georgia. I got my boots on still. I'm gonna get mud all over yer floor. Ya gotta wait. I'm gonna get yer house dirty. Yer daddy's gonna get mad at ya." _

_ "He is not, Daryl. He'll understand that your health is more important than our carpet. Besides, he's at the hospital still. He's working late tonight. Come on. I have to clean you up. That eyebrow is going to need stitches." _

_ "Be gentle." _

_ "I'm always gentle with your stitches, aren't I?" _

_ "'m jus sayin'." _

_ She pushed him down on the chair and grabbed a broom from the corner to sweep the broken plate out of the way. She pulled a clean rag out of the drawer and ran hot water over it before handing it to him. She ordered, "Clean up a little while I go get the medical kit." _

_ Daryl pressed the hot rag to his split eyebrow and watched as his fourteen year old best friend left the kitchen to get the medical kit she kept just for him. _

Daryl jolted awake to the sound of her murmuring in her sleep. He looked over to find her wrapped around her little boy. It was their second day in the tent. The first day, Georgia had made her introductions and he hadn't been surprised to see that she fit right in. She'd always been really friendly and people liked her. Shit, she'd lived with the Dixons for two years. If she could handle them, she could handle anyone. DJ found a quick friend in Carl and was patient about the fact that the boy was injured. She hadn't spoken to Daryl at all and he hadn't cared. He went out to search for Sophia and when he came back, she handed him a bowl of food without talking. They were fine that way. He didn't have anything to say to her.

The little boy slept completely curled into himself. He wrapped himself around whatever he could get his arms on and Georgia curled around him. It's how Daryl slept when he was scared as a kid. It was a comfort thing. He understood that. He crawled out from under the blanket Georgia put on him after he fell asleep and searched around the tent for his boots. They were stacked neatly by the door and things were organized. It almost pissed him off how much it reminded him of living in the trailer with her.

She woke up as he was yanking his boots on and crawled out of the sleeping bag to join him. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she braided her hair down her back and scrubbed the sleep out of her face. She dug around in her duffel bag for a second to find a pair of clean socks and she yanked them on. She whispered, "Are you looking for that little girl today?"

"Sophia. Ya. Goin' on patrol 'round here an then headed out. If ya need anythin', talk to Rick or Glenn. Keep an eye on DJ."

"I know how to watch my son, Daryl. Do you need anything before you go?"

"Somethin' to eat after I get back from patrol. An laundry done today."

"Okay."

Georgia busied herself with washing laundry and keeping an eye on Carl and DJ. She'd only been around for a couple days but she could tell that Lori was useless with her own kid. The child had been shot five days before and she barely kept her eyes on him. He couldn't move around a lot but it was still important to keep an eye on a child. Especially during the end of the world. Georgia made sure to watch the boys while she was washing laundry by the fire. They sat up on the front porch and played checkers. She kept an eye out for Daryl and the little girl he'd be bringing in. She knew that if anybody could bring back a lost child, it was Daryl. Hell, he'd been a lost child himself.

She was twelve when Daryl had disappeared into the woods. They'd known each other for a year. He was thirteen and she was the only person he talked to. She planned to surprise him by making him cupcakes and taking them to his trailer. She was going to let him ride her bike with her on the handlebars up to the creek so they could swim. When she got to his house, Merle was gone on a stint in juvie and his daddy's truck was in the driveway. Daryl told her a lot that she wasn't ever to go to his house if just his daddy's truck was in the driveway. She knew his daddy was dangerous so she turned around and went back home. She packed the cupcakes up and put them back into the fridge, nice and neat. She decided that she would take them to school on Monday and give them to him then. Even though he was a year ahead of her, he always ate lunch with her and glared at anybody who gave them weird looks.

But he didn't come into school on Monday. Or Tuesday. By Wednesday, she decided that, no matter what, she was going to figure out what was going on. She took the cupcakes with her down to Daryl's trailer park and gave them to the neighbor kids because they were going to go bad anyway. She told herself that she would bake Daryl a whole cake if he was still alive. She gathered up all of her courage and rode her bike right up to Daryl's trailer. When she knocked on the door, the biggest, meanest man she'd ever seen opened the door and she lost her voice. He snapped, "What do ya want?"

He had the same blue eyes as Daryl and Merle but she knew better than to think he was anything like Daryl. She knew though that Daryl wasn't home. If he had been home, he would have answered the door. So she said quickly, "I'm a local Girl Scout from Troop 317 and I'm selling Thin Mints."

"Ain't buyin' nothin' from ya, lil girl, so fuckin' get lost 'fore somethin' awful happens to ya. Shouldn' be down 'round here anyway. Don' yer parents have any fuckin' sense."

"Sorry, sir," she said quickly before she dashed away. Daryl came to her house the next day and she baked him a cake. He'd been lost in the woods the entire time. She made him stay on her couch for two days before she let him go back home.


	6. Chapter 6

By around four, Georgia had washed all of her and DJ's clothes as well as Daryl's, and everything she'd found dirty in Daryl's motorcycle bag. She'd gathered wood for their fire, helped get eggs from the chickens, given DJ a strong scrubbing, and washed herself. And Daryl still wasn't back. Georgia went out in the woods and caught a rabbit for the next day, and she still didn't see Daryl. She lay it next to the tent and made her way over to Rick slowly.

"Rick, have you seen Daryl?" she asked.

"He isn't back yet? He probably just got caught up in the search."

"He seems really attached to the little girl and Daryl's really determined, but this isn't like him. He knows better to stay out in the woods this late."

Rick turned away from the gun he was cleaning and questioned, "Don't take this offensively, but how well do you know Daryl? I mean, he came into camp two days ago, cussing under his breath and just demanded that you and your son stay. He didn't explain anything. He's not one to talk a lot."

"Trust me, I know all about that."

"How is that then? That you know Daryl Dixon so well?"

"We were together for three years before I left him."

"When did you leave him?"

"Almost nine years ago."

Rick couldn't stop his eyes from darting over to where DJ and Carl were on the front porch. She informed him, "Don't ask questions about that."

"I only have one."

She turned her eyes away from his and looked out at the tree line where she was still waiting for Daryl to appear from. Rick didn't think she was going to reply until she sighed, "I know what you're going to ask. And no, Daryl doesn't know who DJ's father is."

"Has he ever seen the boy before?"

"The first time was two days ago, when my boy held a gun to Daryl's back and told him to stop yelling before he brought walkers down on the both of them."

Rick stared at the solemn young woman and then looked back at the child with the striking blue eyes and the familiar scowl who sat on the front porch with his son. Rick promised, "If Daryl isn't back by morning, we'll send somebody to look for him."

"If you wait until morning, it will be too late."

"Daryl's a lot tougher than you're giving him credit for."

"Tough doesn't protect you from everything."

"We'll…"

"Walker! Walker!" Andrea's voice rang out in the air and it took Georgia a moment to remember which one she was. It didn't take her but a second to get over to the porch and grab DJ and Carl. She ordered, "Get inside and go upstairs. Go into the bedroom and lock the door. Do not come out until I come get you. Is that very clear?"

"Yes, Mom." "Yes, Georgia." The boys' voices spoke in unison.

"Good. Now go."

She pushed them towards the house and took off towards the camper where Andrea was stationed with her gun. Rick and the other cop were ordering her to stand down while T Dogg and Glenn were grabbing their weapons. She joined them in their race towards the stumbling creature making its way across the field. She was the first to recognize who it was. She shrieked, "It's Daryl! Stop!"

"Georgia, he's limping. He could be bit! He could be a walker!" Rick shouted at her.

"I know Daryl! He's not a fucking walker!"

That didn't stop Rick from drawing his gun and pointing it at the staggering redneck. Georgia rushed forward to grab the gun and froze when Daryl growled, "Ya keep pointin' that thing at me. Ya ever gonna pull the trigger?"

"Oh thank god," Georgia sighed. She moved forward to grab him, to check on him, to take care of him and the shot sounded across the field and she watched him fall backwards into the grass. The scream tore from her throat before she could stop it and they all rushed forward to check on him.

"I was jus kiddin'!" he exclaimed. He swatted at her hands as she grabbed his head to look at the spot where the bullet had grazed him. He snapped, "Fuckin' quit it, woman. Ya know better than to try that fawnin' all over me shit."

"Shut the fuck up, Daryl. You're head's bleeding and…." She looked down at his side and grimaced. He'd obviously tried to create some kind of tourniquet out of his old shirt but it hadn't worked. Blood had poured down his side, soaking his jeans and boots.

"Ya've seen worse on me, Georgia Rayne, so shut the fuck up an get to stitchin'."

"He's wearing ears," Glenn hissed to Shane. "What the hell happened out there?"

"Are you bit?" Shane demanded.

"If he was bit do you think he would have come back to camp?" Georgia growled at him. She didn't like the darker skinned cop. She didn't know why. There was just a gleam in his eye that only cruel men or crazy men had, and she didn't want either one near her or her son.

"Ain' bit. Found Sophia's doll an got myself injured. Arrow to the side. Clean through. Pulled it out though."

"You're an idiot." Georgia stood and grabbed his hand to pull him up. The men grabbed him to take over. She sighed and ordered, "Hide the fucking ears."

She tucked them into his shirt as Andrea came running over, apologizing and out of breath. Georgia glared at her and followed the men to the house while they dragged Daryl in between them. She made it to the front door when Carol came running up. The woman panted, "Did he find her? Did he find my Sophia?"

"I'm sorry, but no. He's closer though," Georgia hated giving the woman a promise she didn't know about. "He found this."

She handed Carol the doll and rushed upstairs to where Daryl was lying in a bed with Hershel at his side. Hershel warned, "Ma'am, you might want to head on downstairs. This isn't going to be pretty."

"It never is with Daryl," Georgia replied. "The first time I ever gave him stitches, I was thirteen."

She reached over and slid her fingers up the back of his jeans and over a rough scar on his calf. Hershel watched her interestedly. She stated, "I was a nurse for three years, but I was Daryl's nurse a long time before that. A man can't change that much in nine years."

"Can change more than you think," Hershel said solemnly.

"I'll help you get his shirt off."

Georgia moved to help Hershel cut the rest of Daryl's shirt off and get a good look at the wound. Hershel asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"The specifics of it, no. I know he took an arrow through the side. He yanked it out. Probably so he could protect himself."

"There's blood on his face," Hershel pointed out as he washed his hands.

Georgia grabbed Daryl's face and studied it for a long second. She swiped her finger across the man's cheek and rubbed it between her fingers before informing Hershel, "Some kind of small animal. He ate something so he could get his strength up and get back here to Carol."

"That his woman?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Stop fuckin' yankin' on my face, Georgia Rayne, an quit talkin' shit ya don' know 'bout," Daryl grumbled without opening his eyes. She flicked him on the forehead.

Georgia helped Hershel cut Daryl's blood stained clothes off of him so they could get to the carnage underneath. His ankle was swollen and bruised and his side was still leaking blood slowly. Daryl murmured, "Ya wanted to see me naked, all ya had to do was ask."

"Shut up, Daryl."

"Missed ya, Georgia Rayne. Didn' yer daddy used to say that nothin' was prettier than the Georgia rain?"

"Daryl, you've lost a lot of blood and you're delirious. You'll regret it when you wake up."

"Glad yer back, Georgia."

"Hush up, Daryl," she ordered.

"Bossy, bitch."

"Always."

"Be here when I wake up, 'kay?"

"I'll be here. I'll make sure your woman is here too," she promised. She brushed a cool hand over Daryl's sweat soaked forehead and guided his eyes closed. She turned to Hershel to help him.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Look like a damn pussy, Georgia Rayne." _

_ "You do not, Daryl." Georgia leaned up and smoothed down the collar on his dress shirt one last time. He was grateful that she hadn't made him wear a suit or tux. Only a black dress shirt and a pair of dress pants. She'd even let him keep his boots on. She helped him scrape the mud off the bottom and helped give him a haircut so he looked right. After all, it was her last prom. He had to go. She was his woman. Even if a lot of people didn't know. She was still his woman. "You're going to be the most handsome man there. Every girl there is going to be jealous." _

_ "Whatever, Georgia Rayne." But he smiled down at her and she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek as her father walked into the room. Her father smiled as Daryl jerked away and glared at her. _

_ "You look great, Georgia," James said happily. He kissed his daughter on the forehead and Daryl couldn't agree with him more. Georgia was wearing a green dress that clung to her like a second skin and billowed out at her hips. She called it a ball gown. He just liked that the thing that came and looped up around her neck showed a lot of her perfect cleavage._

_ "Ya do look really pretty," Daryl agreed. _

_ "Let me get some pictures of you and then you can go," James ordered. "I won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. All I ask is that the two of you behave yourself. I know you're eighteen now, Georgia, so I'm not going to ask you not to have sex. I'm just asking that you don't drink and drive." _

_ Daryl winced at how casually James discussed Daryl having sex with his daughter. The man should have been offended by the thought of Daryl's dirty hands on his perfect daughter. Instead, he encouraged their relationship. He invited Daryl over for dinner. He bought the boy a crossbow for Christmas and bolts for his birthday. He treated the boy like the son he never had. _

_ "We won't, daddy," Georgia promised. She reached over and slipped her hand into Daryl's. She tugged gently and ordered, "Come on, Daryl. We're going to be late for walk in and I want to show you off." _

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"Daryl, Daryl, wake up damn it!" Daryl's eyes opened slowly to the sound of Georgia's voice. Her face hovered above his and she was glaring down at him, those coffee dark eyes narrowed dangerously. He had his hand locked tight around her wrist and he realized that he'd been yanking her up onto the bed with him. He let go quickly.

"I was trying to get a look at your wound and, for some reason, you decided that you just had to grab me and yank me over here."

"Musta missed ya, I guess," he growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut up and hold still, Dixon. Your girlfriend will be in here soon and I want you to be nice to her."

"Girlfriend?" he repeated, confused as Georgia's hand moved to unwrap the bandages around his head.

"Yes, Carol will be in here soon. She wants to bring you dinner."

"Carol?"

"Did you hit your thick fucking head while you were out there? Carol, your girlfriend, is bringing you dinner. She is finishing dinner up. She will bring food up here, and feed you. You will say thank you and do whatever it is that you do with your girlfriend," Georgia said slowly.

"Carol ain' my girlfriend."

"Sorry, I always forget that you hate that word. Your woman, then."

"Ain't my woman either. Don' have a fuckin' woman, Georgia. Ya still don' fuckin' listen to anythin'."

"Daryl, you don't remember, but you asked me to be here when you woke up and that's what I'm doing. I'm going to take care of you. You're going to eat, and then I'm going to drag you to the bathroom, run some water into the tub, and wash you, because you are filthy and we're worried about the dirt getting into your wounds."

"Ya don' have to do nothin'. Was out of it an ain't gonna ask ya to do nothin'. Ya don' gotta take care of me. Don' need ya to."

"Whatever, Daryl. I'm going to prepare your bath, Carol's going to feed you, and then, your filthy ass is getting into the tub."

"Georgia, don' fuck wit me."

"Daryl, shut up and lay there like a good little boy."

"Fuckin' hate ya woman."

Carol opened the door and Georgia left quickly so that Carol could help Daryl. She returned to find him lying on his side, glaring at the wall with the empty plate on the table next to him. She ordered, "Alright, Daryl, up out of bed. I'm your personal nurse and you need a bath."

"Ya jus keep tryin' to get me naked," he grumbled.

"I've seen you naked, Daryl. I think I can contain myself."

He grunted and she moved to the bed to yank the blankets away from him. He growled and rolled over to swat her away. She took that as an opportunity to grab his arm and yank him up. He groaned and snarled, "Remember, I'm injured, damn ya."

"Well, be a good patient and I wouldn't have to yank on you."

He scowled at her but let her loop his arm around her shoulder. He hated that he had to lean on her as much as he did, but she knew better than to say anything about it. She led him to the bathroom and pushed him to sit on the toilet seat. She knelt in front of him and started to unwind the bandages from around his waist. She was glad that he was already shirtless. He still was in a pissey mood with her and she didn't need to add to it. He had reason to be in a pissey mood with her. She left him, with good reason, but he thought she had his baby aborted. After she removed the bandages, she grabbed the bottoms of his boxer shorts and started tugging them down. Daryl yelped, "Woah! Whatcha doin' there?"

"You're going to get clean, Daryl. So we are taking your boxers off."

"But…"

"I've seen you naked before, Daryl. Take them off."

"I hate ya, ya damn hateful ass woman."

"I know you do. Now take them off."

He scowled but removed them so she could help him into the bathtub. There were only a couple inches of water in the tub, enough so she could get him clean but so she could avoid water pouring into this wound. She grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into the water and started washing, starting at his hair and working down. He sighed and leaned into her touch, still exhausted.

"Used to do this," he said so low she wasn't sure he'd even spoken. She kept her mouth shut and waited for him to continue. "Remember the tiny tub we had in the trailer?"

"Yeah, I fell in that thing more times than I could count. It was a health hazard."

"Remember how we used to get real drunk, an jump in it together. Ya'd sit in fronta me an we'd be in there all night."

"Unless your brother was there," she reminded him softly.

Daryl's face hardened and he fell silent. He didn't want to talk about Merle with her. He knew that Lori and Andrea had already filled her in on what happened to Merle but he didn't know how she reacted to it. He didn't know that, after they told her, she'd sat in stunned silence for ten minutes, unable to speak about the man that tormented her and eventually chased her away from Daryl. There were times when she hated Merle. There were times when she wanted to kill him herself, but she never truly wanted him dead. She just wanted him to be quiet. To leave her alone. To get out of their tiny trailer so she could enjoy time with Daryl.

She washed his back and his sides gently, avoiding the arrow hole and observing the scars that crossed across his back, knowing the stories behind them and the pain that came with them. There were a few scars on his arms and chest that she'd stitched up herself, from beatings or hunting accidents. Her stitches were always more even than his own, even in the beginning when her fingers had shaken so badly that she was sure she was going to drop the needle.

Daryl sat still and silent, doing his best to ignore the way her fingertips glided over his skin. Ignoring the way they paused at his scars and brushed over them more gently. He stared at the faucet in the tub and reminded himself over and over again that there had once been a baby in Georgia, and there wasn't anymore. It didn't make him feel better. It made his stomach twist and his throat burn. But it stopped him from finding her attractive. When she finished his back, head, arms, and chest, she handed him the rag and informed him, "You can do the bottom half. I'll go get your clothes."


	8. Chapter 8

She left the bathroom and returned a few moments later with his clothes and reached down to grasp his hand and pull him to a standing position. He scowled down at her as she grabbed a towel and started rubbing him dry, being careful on his side and head. He grunted, "How come yer my nurse?"

"Because everybody else is afraid you'll spit and smack at them."

"Who says I won'?"

She rolled her eyes and finished drying him off. She replied, "I'm surprised you haven't snapped at me or tried to bite me yet."

"Can' bite ya. Ya like it too much," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes again and grabbed the gauze from the sink. She began wrapping it gently around his waist, eliciting hisses from him whenever she came too close to the wound in his side. She wrapped it tight and stood on her tiptoes to wrap his head. She held her breath and ignored how close his body was to hers. Daryl hadn't gotten any less sexy over the years. He was still walking, breathing sex appeal.

He was still all muscle. His arms were bulging from all the years spent hunting and working on vehicles and just not being able to sit still for more than a few moments at a time. He'd never been one to 'work out.' He just didn't have the focus for it. He'd only be able to lift weights or run on a treadmill for a few minutes before he'd get bored and wander off to shoot at something or take something apart. He hated the idea of a treadmill taking up space or a weight room. She'd suggested that they buy a gym membership one time and he'd said that she got enough of a work out under and on top of him and by fighting men off at the bar. He hated the idea of spending money on something like that when they were growing food in a garden in the backyard and he was hunting for meat to fill their deepfreeze.

"You're bandaged. I'll help you get your clothes on. Do you want your shirt on or not? It will probably be uncomfortable to sleep in your jeans."

"Sleep in my jeans all the time. Not that bad."

"Well you can put your jeans on tomorrow morning. I was asking if you wanted the shirt."

"Ya. But I don' need yer help."

"You need to not use your arm, Daryl, or it won't heal right."

"Ya know I've had worse that have healed."

"Well, you need to heal quickly. DJ wants to know if you'll teach him how to hunt and you can't hunt if you don't heal. I told him that he'd have to ask you but I figured I'd mention it to you first. You don't have to if you don't want to. I know you don't have any responsibility to DJ."

Daryl froze as she turned to grab his clothes. Her son wanted him to teach him how to hunt. He didn't know if he could. He'd barely been able to look at the child without thinking of the baby that had been in Georgia. He didn't know if his own child had been a boy or a girl. He didn't know if the child would have had his blue eyes or Georgia's brown ones. Whoever she'd replaced him with had blue eyes. Her boy had blue eyes. Her boy reminded him a lot of him when he was a child. It wasn't fair that Georgia'd been able to cut his baby loose but kept the replacement's child.

She turned around with his boxers and he stepped into them wordlessly. She helped him pull his shirt on and buttoned it in the front. He said suddenly, "When I get better, after we find Sophia, I wanna teach yer boy how to hunt. Boy needs to know how to take care of himself."

"He knows how to shoot. I used to take him to the gun ranges."

"Know how to use a crossbow?"

"Never had one."

He nodded and she helped him back to his bedroom. She informed him, "Tomorrow, you'll be able to go back to your tent. I know you'll appreciate that. I have to go check on DJ. I'll come back later and make sure you're alright. Do not lay on that side, Daryl."

"Don' tell me what to do, Georgia Rayne."

She rolled her eyes and left the room.

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_ Daryl watched her walk across the room to the punch bowl. Colors from the other prom guests dresses swirled around her, but he didn't lose her once in the crowd. It was like watching a deer in the woods. Other people would lose it in the trees, but he never would. He would follow it, watching it as it made its way through the leaves and trees. Georgia was like that deer. He'd never lose sight of her. _

_ He felt a tap on his shoulder and hated tearing his eyes away from her. He turned to find a tall, leggy blonde staring into his eyes. She was grinning in what he was sure she thought was seductive. She asked, "Wanna dance, country boy?" _

_ "No, my girl is over there." He nodded towards the punch bowl, where Georgia was grinning at somebody while she grabbed a couple cups of punch. _

_ "Well, she's not right here. Come on, I want to see what Georgia sees in you. Everybody else around here says you're white trash, but not Georgia. So what does she see in you?" _

_ Daryl turned back to watch Georgia as she made her way across the dance floor. She looked up into his eyes and grinned one of the blinding grins that she only seemed to share with him. Then her eyes turned to the blonde and she frowned. Daryl noticed that her tiny feet started moving quicker. She came up next to them and handed him the punch quickly. She leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth, hard and fast. She turned to the blonde and demanded, "Ashley, what do you want?" _

_ "Just wanted to take your redneck for a spin." _

_ Daryl watched Georgia bristle up instantly and knew that Ashley had made a mistake. Georgia growled, "Don't call him that." _

_ "Don't call him what, a redneck? Is white trash better? Does he prefer white trash?" _

_ Daryl turned to leave and Georgia's hand clasped around his wrist in an iron grasp. Her other hand came up quickly and snapped Ashley across the face. She hissed, "You're just pissed because somebody didn't give you exactly what you want. So don't talk shit about my boyfriend or I will rip you into shreds, you skinny little whore. Daryl, we are leaving." _

_ She managed to yank him forward a few steps before he stopped her. He pulled her back to him and murmured, "Nah. Yer last dance. Ya oughta stay. Ya oughta enjoy it. Meet ya back at yer place." _

_ "No. I'd rather be home with you. We can watch a movie and fool around." _

_ She grinned at him and he smiled back down at her. He protested half-heartedly, "Ya didn' get to dance much. We didn' do the slow dancin' thing." _

_ "I have a stereo at home. We'll slow dance there." _

_ He gave her his half smile and she grabbed his hand. He flinched but he didn't yank his hand away. She knew he hated public displays of affection and it meant a lot to her that he didn't pull away. She led him out to his truck, glaring at any girl that glanced at him on their way out. Daryl took his turn glaring at the guys that stared at her. It didn't matter what they thought, she was his and Daryl Dixon didn't share with anybody. _

_ Once they were in the truck, Georgia leaned over and whispered, "I have a bottle of wine at my house too." _

_ He wrinkled his nose and she giggled. She informed him, "And a six pack. Bottles. I know you hate cans." _

_ He smiled and kept driving. _


	9. Chapter 9

"He's still asleep, you have to be quieter, Carl." The little boy's voice reached through Daryl's conscience and shook him out of sleep.

"I'm being quiet. You're the one that wanted to come ask him if he'd teach you how to hunt."

"Yeah but my mom will tan my hide if she thinks I woke him up. She says he needs to sleep because as soon as he finds out he's able to walk he'll be running out into the woods again."

"What does your mom take such good care of him for anyway?"

"I don't know. She said that he's a real good man and he used to mean a lot to her."

"Is it like my mom and Shane? He saved her life so they were friends but now they're not."

"No. Everything happened before the walkers came. It's weird that Mom likes him. She usually hates guys."

"Because of your daddy?"

"No. She says my daddy was a really good man. He just couldn't love her so she had to leave when she found out she was going to have me. She says that when I'm old enough she'll tell me more about him."

"Do you know anything about him?"

Daryl wanted to reveal himself. He wanted to open his eyes and tell the little boys to go away and let him fucking sleep. But he didn't. He lay there in silence so he could hear what DJ was going to say about his dad.

"I know that she loved him a whole lot and she said that my daddy was the only man she'll ever love."

That stung Daryl. She was with him for three years. They'd never said that they loved each other but he thought she loved him. He cared a lot about her. They just never said it.

"She said that I'm a lot like him sometimes. Stubborn and stuff."

"Did you ever ask her what his name is?"

"No, but I think he has the same name as Daryl."

"Why?"

"Because I have the same name as Daryl. Mom said not to tell him though. We should get out of here before she comes up to check on him. He'll probably be up by tomorrow. I can ask him then."

"Is it weird sharing the same tent as him? Shane used to say that Daryl's dangerous because you never know what he's going to do."

"Not really. When he was in the tent, he wasn't mean. He's just quiet and Mom says that he's only ever really mad at her, so just to ignore anything he says."

"Oh. Well, come on. Maybe we can get Shane to teach us some more shooting today."

Daryl lay awake long after the boys left the room and thought about DJ. He couldn't believe Georgia had named her fucking son after him. After everything she did, having his own baby cut out of her and leaving him like she did, she still gave her son his name. When she came in, he sat in silence while she checked him and gave him food. He didn't need to open his mouth because if he did, he'd just yell at her about her son. She didn't say anything either. She didn't need to. She could tell he was pissed and she didn't want to question it. She just took care of him and left.

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_ His arms were around her tight, the bottle of beer in his left hand resting against the cleft of her ass as his hands were clasped on her back. Her head was on his shoulder and she was nuzzling his neck gently with her nose. It was driving him insane as they swayed back and forth to the soft song playing on her stereo. He groaned, "Ya gotta stop, Georgia Rayne. Drivin' me up the wall an I can' be doin' nothin'." _

_ "Why not?" _

_ "Won' be ruinin' yer prom night by tryin' to mess 'round wit ya. Seen those movies. Ain't gonna be the guy that forces the girl into anything." _

_ "It's not forcing, Daryl. I want you." _

_ Her voice in his ear, the feel of the tingling hot breath on his skin, it drove him crazy and he leaned down to capture her mouth with his. Her hands slid up his chest and tightened around his dress shirt. She began pulling him towards the couch and he pulled away long enough to shake his head. He murmured, "Not here. Yer room." _

_ They didn't speak as Georgia grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs to her room. In the room, lit only by the moonlight coming in through the window, she reached behind her and unclasped the straps of her dress that hung around her neck. She said softly, "Unzip me, Dare." _

_ His fingers shook as he grasped the tiny little zipper on that dress and slid it down slowly, exposing more and more of her skin to him. Her softly darkened skin glowed a shimmering gold in the moonlight and while his fingers traced over the velvet flesh, she reached up to remove the pins from her long, wavy chestnut hair so that it would cascade over her shoulders and across his hands. While he smoothed his fingers through the silken locks, she slid the dress down away from her torso and let it pool at her feet._

_ "Yer sure, Georgia Rayne?" he whispered against the back of her neck. _

_ "Of course I am, Daryl." _

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"Daryl, do you want to move back into the tent tonight or stay in this room?" Her skin still felt like velvet. He hated that it was his first thought when he woke up to her hand on his forehead. She was hovering over him again. The late afternoon sunlight coming through the window lit up her face and her dark hair was pulled away from it in a loose bun that didn't capture every wisp. She had a smear of dirt across her right cheekbone and he stared at it, wondering how it got there.

"Come on, Daryl. Hershel said you've only had one Vicodin. You can't be this out of it. I need your answer so I know if I'm moving you tonight or not. It's starting to get dark out." She was tired. He could hear it in her voice and it made him wonder what she'd been doing all day. She'd been in and out of his room, taking care of him, but he knew that wasn't it. Georgia never had just one task.

"Tent." One word satisfied her and she nodded.

"Well you can get up out of bed on your own then while I find your jeans."

"Jeez, woman, lil bit a bedside manner goes a long way, ay?"

"Daryl," she hissed between gritted teeth, "I just had a thirty minute conversation with Lori about how much she misses air conditioning because 'it's just so hot,' while I slaved over a hot stove. And afterwards, **I** did dishes, using water **I **boiled over a fire. So I'm a little tense."

"Ya don' like Lori much."

"It's not my place to say anything, Daryl. I was welcomed here by these people and I'll be damned if I bitch too much about it. Now come on. I have to get you into the tent, not hit Andrea, make sure DJ washes off a little bit of the grime he's gathered, and hang laundry to dry before the night is over."

"Never heard any o' the other woman havin' to do so much," Daryl commented as he sat up in bed and watched Georgia's ass as she bent over.

"I'm going to earn my keep around here and I'm going to keep my son mildly appropriate while I do it."

The mention of her son brought the conversation he'd overheard earlier rushing back to his mind. He stared at her while she moved around the room quickly, gathering up his clothes. He asked gruffly, "Yer boy, what's his name mean?"

"What do you mean?" She avoided his gaze as she lay his clothes on the bed next to him.

"DJ. What's it mean?"

"He's named after my dad. James. Dad always loved him a lot. He took so many pictures of me when I was pregnant that it was almost ridiculous. I still have both of my photo albums. Seems a little weird now, carrying those around, but I do it for him."

"Right." It wasn't missed by Daryl how she avoided part of the question and it put him in a bad mood. He yanked his clothes on, ignoring the tightness in his side and the ache that came from it, and stood up quickly to buckle his jeans. Georgia's eyes scraped over him quickly before she looked towards the door. When he was dressed, she moved to his side to help him and he swatted at her easily. "Git, Georgia. Ain't needed yer help before. Don' need it now."

"Daryl, don't be an ass. Let me help you to the tent so I can do the other stuff I have to do tonight."

"No. Don' need yer damn help."

She stared at him with her hands on her hips for a long second before she slowly moved closer. He demanded, "Whatchu doin', ya hateful woman?"

She moved until she was flush against him and stared up into his eyes. He stared back down at her, beginning to feel nervous. He knew Georgia could be downright mean when she wanted to be. She demanded, "Are you going to let me help you, Daryl Dixon?"

"No, fuck off, Georgia."

He should have known as soon as she moved, what she was going to do. She ran her hand up his side and applied quick pressure to his wound, making his knees weaken under him. She caught him as his knees gave out and she held onto him tightly. She growled, "Thought you'd see it my way. Come on now, stupid. We're going to the tent."

"Fuckin' hate ya."

"And I'm going to give you really good reason if you don't cooperate."

With minimal help from him, she managed to get him outside and partway across the yard, to the amusement of everybody who watched with smirks on their faces as Daryl cussed her and she cussed him right back. DJ and Carl watched DJ's mother with curious, confused expressions. Finally, she made it to the tent and kicked the flap open. She dropped him on his cot easily and warned, "You will sleep in a sleeping bag tonight, or I will break my foot off in your ass."

"Don' fuckin' threaten me, Georgia."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the tent as Andrea entered the tent with a book. Georgia stormed over to DJ and ordered, "Shower, now, young man."

"Mom, it's only like seven o'clock. Don't make me shower yet," DJ whined.

"No. Shower now."

"Come on, Georgia. He and Carl are playing," Shane joined in.

Georgia turned to him and glared. She tried to reign in her temper but it snapped when Daryl yelled from the tent, "Let yer boy be dirty, Georgia!"

"Shut the fuck up, Daryl! I'm not dealing with your shit right now."

She turned to her son and leveled him with a gaze that could freeze the blood in a person's veins. He sighed and walked towards the house. She looked at Shane and Shane stared back at her, his dark eyes studying her with a death glare. He hated it when people didn't listen to him. He always thought he knew best. She turned away from him and stomped back over to Daryl's camping area so she could grab the basket of wet laundry left by his tent. Her back ached as she lifted it and pulled it over to the line to hang in sullen silence. She sighed at the pain in her back and went to the tent to check on Daryl. He was looking over a book sullenly and glared at her when she peeked in the tent. She muttered, "Not one ounce of fucking gratitude around here."


	10. Chapter 10

Happy Monday everybody! Don't let this cold weather get you down! Have an amazing week!

_ "Don' wanna go to this fuckin' party, Georgia Rayne," Daryl's voice was barely above a growl. _

_ "But you will, Daryl Dixon." She replied. She was sitting on her bed and he was laying on the floor. She was carefully painting her toenails a strange shade of purple that matched the purple shirt she had on. Daryl was avoiding looking at her too closely. She was wearing a purple shirt and a pair of purple boy cut panties. Merle'd call him a faggot if he knew Daryl wasn't soaking in the sight of Georgia but Daryl couldn't give a shit less. Merle didn't matter as much when he was around Georgia. She continued, "Wanna know why you will?" _

_ "Why's that?" he grumbled. _

_ "Because you are my best friend and I am your best friend and I need to get my mind off of dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole." She grinned teasingly at him. He glared back. He hated dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole and she knew it. Daryl hadn't liked the douche since the moment he'd strutted over to the table where Daryl and Georgia ate lunch every day, sat down, and asked her if she wanted to ride in his cherry red Mustang. To her credit, she'd grinned at him and informed him that she was riding home in Daryl's rust red Chevy. But he didn't give up on her and, within two weeks, Georgia was dating dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole and, two months later, she was crying on his shoulder about how dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole broke up with her because she wouldn't 'put out.' Two hours after that, he had slashed all the tires on dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole's cherry red Mustang and left a dead opossum in the back seat, just for a Dixon special touch. _

_ "Ya been broken up for a week an a half now. Ain't off yer mind yet?" He frowned. _

_ "Well, Mr. Dixon, he would be off my mind if he hadn't approached me yelling about a dead opossum he found in his Mustang." _

_ "He yelled at ya?" _

_ Georgia rolled her eyes and informed him, "You are coming with me to this party tonight and we are going to crash there, because we are going to get so drunk we can't see straight. Then, we're going to come back here in the morning, take showers, and go get breakfast." _

_ "I don' have the…" _

_ "Daryl, breakfast is on me for you being my chauffeur." _

_ "Ain't right, me always taking money from ya." _

_ "You don't always take money from me, Daryl. When you have work on cars, you're always paying for me. Now come on. I'm going to get my skirt on." _

_ He watched her from the floor while she got up from her bed and hobbled over to her dresser, careful not to smudge her toenail polish. She shimmied into some kind of jean skirt and sat down to do her makeup while Daryl lay on the floor. By eleven o'clock that night, he was leaning against the door frame to somebody's kitchen, nursing a beer in his hand and watching Georgia laugh with a couple of her friends. Some leggy scrawny chicks. He sighed as Georgia looked over at him and stuck out her tongue. She loved doing shit like that. Teasing him like she did. _

_ He was really drunk but she was really hot. Why didn't he notice that all the time? That little purple shirt she was wearing hugged her in all the right places and her skirt was slowly inching up as the night went along, showing more and more of her legs. Georgia noticed him staring and began making her way over when she was stopped by a friend of dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole. Daryl watched as she stared up at the guy and then frowned. Her eyebrows furrowed together over those coffee dark eyes and her supple mouth turned down. Daryl stood up off the wall and took a step forward. He didn't want Georgia to be uncomfortable so soon after the break up. But apparently he didn't have to worry about it because she drew her knee up into the guy's groin and hissed something at him before stumbling her way over to Daryl. _

_ "Daryl, you're the only guy in my life that's not family and not an asshole," she sighed as she leaned towards him. She was already close. Closeness didn't bother either of them. After having somebody stitch you up so many times, closeness was just a part of the two of you. But she'd never been close to him and looking up at him the way she was. Her eyes were heavy lidded and her lips were parted a little bit, letting her breath drift out softly. _

_ "'m still an asshole, Georgia Rayne," he protested. _

_ "But you're good to me, Daryl. And I do care for you so much." _

_ He nodded and hated the blush he felt creeping up his face. She stared up at him for a long minute and he felt even more awkward. He sighed, "Georgia Rayne, what're ya doin'?" _

_ "Thinking about kissing you," she answered simply. _

_ "But…" _

_ "Shut up and lean down here. You're too tall to make this easy for me when I'm drunk." _

_ She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to press her lips softly to his. _

Daryl woke up to the sound of DJ whimpering in his sleep. He looked around the tent and realized Georgia wasn't there. He remembered she'd had watch duty and would be gone until first light. He sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep, but the sound of the boy making strangled scared noises kept him awake. He sighed and sat up, trying to ignore the ache in his side. He hissed, "Boy, hey, boy. Wake up."

It didn't work. Daryl thought back to the first night DJ and Georgia were in his tent. She had to shake the boy to wake him up out of a nightmare. He slowly made his way across the tent and used his foot to nudge the sleeping child. The boy didn't wake up so he nudged him a little harder. It wasn't a kick, because Daryl knew he'd never kick a kid, but it was hard enough to wake the child up. The kid rolled over and stared up at him with sleepy eyes and, for a minute, Daryl was reminded of waking up to Merle kicking at him, telling him to get his ass up and do something. "Ya…uh…ya alright, boy?"

"Where's my mom?" he asked hoarsely.

"She's on watch. Back in a few hours."

"Oh." The boy lay back down and rolled onto his side.

"Ya need anythin' kid? Anythin' I kin do?"

"Mister, don't think I'm rude, 'cause Mom taught me not to be rude, but I really don't think I should ask you for anything."

"Why's that, boy?"

"Because you don't even want us around half the time. You fight with my mom every chance you get and sometimes I think you hate the both of us, even if Mom says you're not a hateful person. I like it here and you're the reason we get to stay here. I don't want to ask you for anything. Mom and I can take care of ourselves. Just thank you for bringing us here."

"I…I don'…" The words stuck in Daryl's throat as he looked at the back of the child. The kid that should have been his. The kid that replaced his own child in Georgia's belly. He sighed, "I don' hate ya or yer momma. I jus….I jus don' hate ya."

Daryl went back to his side of the tent and rolled onto his side with his back to DJ. After a few minutes, he called out, "An if ya wanna learn ta hunt, I'll take ya when my side gets better. It'll be good for ya. To learn to feed yer momma, in case anythin' happens to me an I can' take care of ya."

"Thank you."

"Yer welcome, boy."


End file.
